


Come With Me (to the sea)

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Explicit Consent, Healer Harry, IT'S NOT MY FAULT, M/M, Mermaid Sex, mermaid louis, mermaid smut, that's really all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: One mermaid. One healer. One hot afternoon.





	Come With Me (to the sea)

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my fault. It's really not. This is what happens when you have a group chat with people with filthy, filthy minds and you talk about mermaid sex and how it might work. And then this happened. It's not really beta'd and it's pretty much straight out of my brain onto the page. All the mermaids were inspired by [Phoenix's brilliant imagination](http://horsegirlharry.tumblr.com/post/165024713228/deep-cut-thoughts-if-the-boys-were). 
> 
> This is a work of fiction, meant only to entertain. Please don’t break the 4th wall or post anywhere else! 
> 
> As always, the words, as well as the errors, are mine.

Harry sits on the underwater stool with his back to the bar, swirling his margarita in the oversized, plastic brandy snifter. The water of the Caribbean is warm as it swirls around his legs, lapping at his thighs, and he’s feeling pretty pleased with his situation overall.

He’s been here in Mexico for just over four weeks, and he’s got another two years to go in his intensive Healer training course. He’s already learned so much, and he can’t wait to see what else Ingrid and Björn have to teach them. He particularly loves the 4 days on, 3 days off, format of the course, allowing him plenty of time to enjoy the amazing location, and to get to know the interesting people who are studying or working around the Lindgren Training and Conference center, located about 130 km south of Cancun at Tulum.

Harry loves everything about this moment — the sun, the deep, glassy-green water of the sea, the margarita, and, of course. He spies movement out of the corner of his eye and turns around to face the bar.

“Lou!” he crows in delight. “Are you going on duty?”

Louis pauses from where he’s unloading a clean tray of glasses onto the bar and grins at Harry. “Harry, hey! How goes the learning?”

Harry lifts his enormous glass in a happy salute. “Awesome. We’re working on some really cool, deep-level visualizations.”

Louis grins, flicks his fins so that just a few droplets of water spatter on Harry’s chest, and dives back down to head back to the storeroom. Harry dreamily watches him go, wondering how he manages never to lose his snapback as he swims.

Niall snickers from the other end of the bar. He claims he’s “just a standard goldfish-type merman, mate” but Harry is mesmerized by the deep orange and gold in his tail as he swims back and forth behind the bar.

Harry thinks it’s interesting, the way the different supernatural types have integrated into human society over the last 50 years. Werewolves run all the nature preserves and the National Parks Service. Vampires rule the urban nightlife and the financial systems. For some reason, the Elves have taken over the cruise lines and Hollywood, while the merpeople run all the major coastal resorts. Humans still manage a lot of general manufacturing and industry, and of course, there’s been comingling of the different races. Harry himself is a product of that. There’s fae somewhere in his lineage, resulting in a powerful and capricious healing gift that had manifested when he turned 21, just six weeks ago. The Swedes monitor all emergent gifts, obviously, and had contacted him to offer him a training spot here, and he’d eagerly accepted, leaving his dull factory job in Duluth. He’ll have his pick of placements worldwide when he finishes, and he’s still reeling a bit at how his fortune has changed in such a short time.

He spies Liam, another healer trainee who’d arrived two days before him, slipping into the warm water of the grotto and swimming over to the bar to haul himself up onto the stool next to Harry.

“Liam!” Harry cries and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug, which Liam submits to amiably. “How are you?”

Liam smiles. “Pretty much the same as I was an hour ago in study group, Haz,” he says gently, and turns to the bar. “How’d he get this toasty in an hour, Niall?”

Niall shrugs and goes back to wiping down the bar. “He said something about missing lunch. Want me to put in an order to the kitchen?”

Liam nods and pokes Harry. “Hey, you need food or you’re going to get sloppy and drown.”

Harry grins foolishly. “Louis wouldn’t let me drown. Niall, you wouldn’t let me drown. Zayn wouldn’t let me drown.” He considers his drink and then takes a sip. “Well, Zayn might let me drown.”

“He might,” Liam agrees with a grin, “So, have some food. What do you want?”

They order salads and the catch of the day, which Harry knows will be fresh and grilled to perfection. One huge advantage of being accepted into this particular training program is that _everything_ is included, and they even receive a modest stipend as well. Lindgren healers are the best in the world, and they’re trained on all the major supernatural races, so there’s heavy support for the Center. It’s two years of the most intensive work he’ll ever experience, Harry’s been assured, but so far at least, the perks make it a bit easier.

One perk is back at the bar, grinning at him as he mixes a pitcher of margaritas. Louis is quite possibly the most beautiful person Harry has ever seen, and that includes Zayn, which is saying a lot. Louis is muscular but not bulky, with eyes and a tail the color of the sea that surrounds them. His smile is infectious, his laugh delightful, and his fins are absurd. They’re showy and shimmery, and even when he’s not trying, he’s the most elegant swimmer Harry has ever seen. Harry’s been chatting him up for _weeks_ and he’s hopeful that Louis is not unreceptive.

Niall sets their meals down in front of them. “Another round, boys?” he asks with a cheerful grin.

Harry shrugs. It’s Friday afternoon and he’s not back in the lecture hall until Monday morning. He knows there some sort of beach party this evening with grotto dancing and Zayn DJing, and he thinks that if he takes in some liquid courage, maybe he’ll have the balls to ask Louis out. There’s no actual rule against them spending time together, as long as there’s no direct chain of command or evaluation. Harry’s checked.

“Sure,” he says happily, sucking down the last of his drink and setting the empty glass on the bar.

Liam makes concerned eyebrows at him, but Harry smiles reassuringly and pats his face. Well, attempts to pat his face. He misses and falls off his stool into the calm water and surfaces to Louis’ delighted laughter.

Later that night, Harry swims around the grotto. The water is deep enough to accommodate the merfolk’s tails, but somehow manages to keep the humans afloat so they don’t drown. It’s complex magic and Harry appreciates it a lot. There are lights sparkling across the sea, there are lots of bodies in the water happily grooving to the tunes Zayn is moodily spinning, and it would be perfect, Harry thinks, of only Louis were here.

He heads away from the crowd, and gives a crow of satisfaction as he makes his way back to the swim-up bar. Perrie’s behind the stick and it looks like Niall and Louis are taking advantage of the grotto party to hang out at the bar with a few of the other merfolk staff. They’re both drifting lazily near the bar, in the non-seating area were the mers tend to congregate. Louis got a glass of something electric blue, and Niall’s got his favorite double-can beer hat. Harry swims up, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Missed you guys at the party,” he says, wondering if he’s intruding, but the delight on their faces goes a long way towards reassuring him. He’s hopeful that he sees a bit of something else on Louis’ face as well.

He treads water lazily as he watches them. Like most of the supernatural races, the mers tend to be ridiculously gorgeous, so sue him if he wants to enjoy that. Harry’s always appreciated beauty. At some point, Liam’s joined them, and Harry is dimly aware that the party seems to be dying down, and eventually Zayn swims morosely by. Zayn is one of the fanciest merfolk Harry’s ever seen. His tail is is black like an oil slick, and when the sun hits it, he shimmers with cool blues and metallic purple and bright green. The first time Harry had seen him, he’d had to go underwater for a bit and cool off.

“Good show, Zaynie?” Louis calls out and Zayn drifts languidly up to them, sighing greatly.

Okay, so he’s gorgeous, but a bit too dramatic for Harry.

“It was fine,” Zayn says, flicking his spiky fin. “No one drowned.”

“Always a bonus,” Liam says heartily and, _oh._

Huh. Harry hadn't realized. He and Liam have spent more than one night up late talking, sharing their histories, their hopes, their surprise at their change in fortunes. Liam’s only ever dated humans, Harry knows. He, himself, has dated supernatural. It’s not taboo, exactly, not anymore, but people by and large tend to stick to their own race. And, Harry knows, some people are more conservative than others. Merfolks, by virtue of generally running the hospitality industry, tend to be more open to dating cross-race, as it were, but Harry’s not sure where Zayn falls in all of this. He’s hard to read.

Louis sets his glass down on the bar and grins at Perrie before turning back to their little group. “Okay, folks,” he says cheerfully. “That’s it for me, I’m wiped. And, no work tomorrow. I’m sleeping in!”

“Ooh, day off,” Niall chortles, taking a sip from his hat’s straw. “I’m on noon to eight.” He eyes the sky for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet, I think. Rain later, maybe around 6.”

Harry wonders how the hell he knows that but then what Louis’ just said registers. Wait just a minute. He and Louis both have the day off tomorrow.

He calculates his odds and then says quickly, “Hey, I think I’m going to turn in, too. Louis, can I go back with you?”

Louis shrugs and nods, and they make their way to the edge of the grotto. Harry pulls himself up onto land and Louis swims slowly down the canal that leads to the main entrance of the conference center. Harry knows that Louis will leave him there to make his way around to the employee’s quarters behind the main building where he is housed, and figures he’s got about five minutes to make his move.

“Hey,” he says finally, steeling himself as they approach Louis’s swim-off point, “I was thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Louis teases cheerfully and Harry snorts.

“Dick. No, I was thinking, you’re off tomorrow and so am I, maybe we could… I dunno.” His nerve almost fails him and then he plunges forward. “Maybe we could hang out, like in the afternoon or something?”

Louis freezes and then reaches out to carefully steady himself on the edge of the canal. He seems a bit taken aback and Harry is wondering if he’s misread all of their flirting. Maybe Louis flirts with everyone this way, maybe it’s just his public persona, but then Louis speaks and Harry relaxes.

“That sounds intriguing, Styles. What did you have in mind?”

Harry crouches down by the edge of the canal, fully aware that he’s dressed only in his tight yellow swim trunks, which are still damp and clinging to his body. He doesn’t miss the way Louis’ eyes flick from his face to his dick, which, to be fair, is right at Louis’ eye level, and then back up to his face.

Harry shrugs. “Dunno. Don’t care. I’d just like to spend time with you. Alone.” And just in case Louis has any doubts about his intentions, he clarifies, “A date. With you.”

Louis’ eyes widen for a moment and then he nods, his shoulders relaxing as he lets go of the wall. “Sounds good. Meet me in the grotto tomorrow? 2:00, bring a kayak, I’ll bring the rest.”

Heart racing in his chest, Harry nods and watches as Louis grins, shoves away from the wall, and dives deep, flicking his tail as he goes.

The next afternoon finds Harry in a one-person kayak, drifting a bit as he tilts his face up to the sun. He startles as Louis breaks the surface of the water right next to him, flailing a bit until he regains his equilibrium.

“Hey,” Louis says casually, tossing his wet hair out of his eyes. He’s dragging a large, waterproof bag, which he wrestles up into the kayak. “Here, you take this.”

Harry grins. “Where are we off to?”

“Just… follow me, okay?” Louis says. “I know a place.”

So, Harry does. They make their way out of the grotto, sticking near to the coastline. They can’t carry on a conversation, as Louis’ swimming just under the surface, popping up now and then to make sure Harry’s able to keep up in his little boat, but Harry is content to follow, watching the way the sunlight lights up Louis’ tail whenever he breaks the surface.

After about a half hour, Louis leads them into a small cove. Like most of the mermaid areas, this one has been engineered, carved out to be deep enough to accommodate even the most ornate tail fins. There’s a white sand beach, and a long pier that juts out into the cove. It’s got a platform that floats just at the surface of the water, and large steps that descend below the surface. On the lowest level, there are a couple of built-in chairs that will allow a person to sit comfortably, with legs floating freely. It’s clearly designed to facilitate merfolk/human interaction, and Harry can’t help the excitement that hums under the surface of his skin as he thinks about why Louis might have brought him here. He manauervers his boat next to the dock, and hops out. He carefully loops the kayak’s tethering line to the post, and hauls the large bag onto the dock and turns to see Louis drifting lazily near him, a smile on his face.

“What is this place?” Harry asks as he sets the bag down and rests his hands on his hips, looking around. The beach on-shore is not that deep, and transitions almost immediately into rain forest. There are a couple of structures, cabana-type patios and something that’s probably a bathroom, and Harry spies an old grill as well.

“It belongs to the center, but they almost never use it anymore,” Louis says, coming closer to the dock. “They’ve got a newer facility with better amenities up the coast a bit, so this one tends to be deserted. I like to come and hang out sometimes. There’s a cool octopus who lives over there,” he gestures towards a long curve of coral reef, “and some really pretty fish.” He looks almost embarrassed. “I know it’s not, like, fancy or anything...”

“It’s gorgeous,” Harry breathes as he looks around, noticing a large, tropical bird winging its way into the forest. The water is so clear that he can see some crabs scuttling around on the floor of the ocean, even though it’s got to be 5 meters down. He looks back at Louis. “What do you want to do?”

What Louis wants to do, it transpires, is swim around and look at every single thing they can find. Finally, Harry has to call timeout.

“My pitiful human legs are tired,” he whines, treading water near the coral reef as multiple brightly-colored fish whiz around him, clearly very busy. “And I’m hungry.”

Louis laughs. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve got food and drinks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wear you out.” He floats closer, and suddenly the air between them thickens as he lets one hand drift down in the water to rest on Harry’s thigh, who gives a high-pitched squeak that’s nowhere near inaudible. “I wouldn’t want to do damage to your pitiful human legs. I’m actually…” his hand drifts higher up Harry’s thigh, who tries valiantly not to drown, “...quite fond of them.”

Harry manages to swim over to the dock, and climbs up to grab the bag of provisions Louis’ brought, as Louis slides himself up onto the underwater portion of the platform that juts out next to the chair structures. Harry settles himself into the chair, and they root through the bag. Louis hand over containers of chicken salad, cut-up fruit, and a glass into which he pours a lovely straw-colored wine that Harry sips appreciatively.

They eat in silence for a bit, Harry letting his tired legs float in the water. Finally, they set their food aside, and Harry stretches, and then turning, sees Louis watching him steadily over the rim of his glass as he sips his wine.

His heart starts to beat more quickly and he takes a sip from his own glass.

“So,” Louis says finally, and reaches behind Harry to set down his glass. “Harry.”

“Louis,” Harry replies, his heart in his throat and his dick starting to pay attention in his swim shorts. He turns to set his own glass down. He’s a bit thankful that his lower half is under water until it occurs to him that Louis has merfolk vision, and can definitely see through the water to what’s happening in his shorts.

Louis shifts closer and carefully lays his hand on Harry’s thigh, just north of his knee. “How are your legs feeling?”

Harry prays fervently that he’s not misreading things. Louis has been very friendly and cheerful all day, but he hasn’t been tactile and flirty, and Harry has been wondering all afternoon if maybe he’s misread the situation. But then Louis gives him a searching look and then his hand moves, shifting higher up Harry’s leg.

“Oh,” Harry says quietly, “That’s my—”

Then Louis’ hand moves even yet higher and Harry gulps, “Louis. Lou. That’s—”

He gives a strangled yelp as Louis cups him through the damp nylon of his swimsuit and his head falls back to rest against the back of the chair chair as his hips buck up against the agonizingly delightful pressure Louis is applying to his groin.

“Fuck, Lou, that’s my— That’s your— That’s—” He gasps as Louis presses harder and turns his head to stare at him.

“Well-spotted,” Louis whispers with a grin. “That’s your, and that’s my, and here we are.”

His thumb traces soft circles around the head of Harry’s dick as his fingers close around Harry’s length and Harry can’t quite believe how hard he is, and then Louis leans in and kisses him and Harry moans helplessly at the feel of Louis’ mouth against his own.

The kiss starts gentle, but before long it shifts. It’s hot and wet immediately, Louis’ mouth firm against his own even as Louis continues to stroke Harry through his swim shorts, and Harry moans again, his mouth opening to Louis as they kiss. Harry’s hand reaches up to curl around Louis’ bicep, which is firm and warm under his touch. This goes on for several moments until Harry is reduced to a panting mess, shivering under Louis’ touch.

He has to lay his hand down over Louis’ and gasp, “Stop, fuck, stop or I’m gonna come and I don’t want to. Not yet.”

Louis freezes his hand and moves back a bit, a decidedly self-satisfied look on his face as he takes in the sight of Harry quivering in the chair.

“What do you want, Harry?” he asks gently and Harry takes first one breath and then another, trying to regain his composure enough so that he can answer the question.

“I want,” he starts hesitantly and then thinks, fuck it, and dives in. “Fuck, Louis, I like you _so much,_ you must know that?”

Louis nods, a smile playing about his lips. “I had an idea, yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, baby.”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them. “I just, I want… anything. Whatever. Whatever you want, I want. With you.”

“Have you ever,” Louis coughs, his face taking on a more serious expression, “Have you ever been with a supe before?”

Harry feels his heart flutter (and let’s be honest, his dick twitch) that Louis is being so careful with him.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Not, like, a mer, but yeah. I’ve been with a couple of supes. A were, and an elf.”

Louis nods. “Okay, that’s good. I’m not sure if you know…” he looks suddenly self-conscious, “Like, how it works for mers?”

Harry shrugs, achingly aware that Louis’ hand is inches from his dick, but no longer actually on it, and it’s really a travesty, is what it is.

“I don’t really care, Louis,” he says honestly, “I mean, whatever it is, it’s going to be amazing, right? Because it’s you? And,” here something strikes him, “Have you been with a human before?”

Louis nods. “I have, yeah. So I know how it works for you. Do you… do you want me to tell you? How it works for us?”

Harry meets his gaze and can’t help the wicked smirk that crosses his face as he whispers, “Why don’t you just show me, Lou?” and then their mouths meet again and Harry is lost.

His sense are reeling. He feels the lap of the sea against his legs, the sunlight beating on his shoulders. He smells the slightly fishy, salty tang of the air, feels the cool breeze against his cheeks. Hear the screech of birds and the surf in the distance. And through it all, surrounding him, engulfing him, is Louis, Louis, Louis.

Louis’ hand tangled in his curls, his tongue thrusting into Harry’s mouth, and he tastes like wine and the sea. Harry hears the sound of Louis’ tail twitching restlessly against the surface of the water as he pushes Harry back into the chair. And then suddenly, Louis pulls back.

He gives an impish grin and says, “Here’s a thing I can show you,” and before Harry can respond, Louis slides off the platform into the water.

He dives down, circles around, and then, as Harry watches, he drifts slowly back towards the surface, until he’s holding himself steady with small, careful undulations of his tail, just under the surface of the water. His hands reach up, grasp Harry’s hips and then slide down a bit, tugging Harry down so that he’s leaning back in the chair, with his lower body half-off the seat of the chair, floating in the water, and oh. _Oh._

Now Louis is carefully slipping Harry’s swim shorts down over his hips and pulling them off. He breaks the surface of the water to toss them onto the platform behind Harry and gives him a wicked grin.

“So,” Louis says conversationally, “There’s one cool thing mers can do that the other supes can’t.”

He raises an eyebrow as Harry struggles to find coherent words.

“Oh, really,” Harry gasps out, the sensation of the warm water flowing over his bare skin almost too much for him. “What’s that?”

“We can breathe underwater,” Louis says, and sinking below the surface, he swallows Harry down in one, swift move.

Harry closes his eyes and gives himself over to the sensations he’s feeling. The water, the sun, the heat and suction of Louis’ mouth on him, the way Louis can maintain this without having to stop to breathe is rapidly bringing Harry close to the edge. It feels so new and overwhelming.

Far too soon, he taps Louis on the head and tries to yank him up out of the water. Louis pushes himself up, using his powerful tail to hold himself out of the water as he braces his hands on the seat of the chair on either side of Harry’s thighs, and Harry tries not to come at the sight of Louis’ bulging biceps.

“Fuck, fuck,” Harry groans, shocked at how wrecked his voice sounds, “I’m so close.”

Louis seems to know that it won’t take much to finish Harry off at this point, as he’s carefully holding his body away from Harry’s so they’re not touching. He’s not out of breath, but clearly he’s not unaffected by this, and his eyes are dark as he takes in the sight of Harry trembling below him.

Harry reaches out and places his hand on the curve of Louis’ waist, just above the transition from human skin to scales. He’s not entirely sure of the etiquette for merfolk and so he asks.

“Can I touch you? I want to touch you, Louis.”

Louis nods slowly and Harry slides his hand down so that he’s stroking the shimmering teal scales, and Louis shudders under his touch.

Harry freezes, but doesn't pull his hand back. “Is that okay? Is it sensitive?”

Louis nods. He’s looking down at himself, where Harry’s hand rests just under the surface of the water, as if he’s seeing something new, heretofore unknown to him. “It’s. Yeah, it’s sensitive. There’s a lot of nerve endings.”

“Should I stop?” Harry asks, wondering if this hurts.

Louis closes his eyes as if momentarily overwhelmed and then whispers, “No, fuck no. Don’t stop, Harry,” and it hits Harry.

This doesn’t hurt. This feels _good._

He strokes firmly over the curve of Louis’...well, he’s not sure if it’s a hip, they haven’t gotten to mer anatomy yet, but there’s a curve there, and from the way Louis moans and shudders under his touch, this feels pretty good. Harry is careful not to go against the grain of the scales. They aren’t slimy, they’ve got a tough, almost leathery feel to them and he presses down with more confidence that he’s not going to damage Louis or hurt him.

Louis’ eyes are closed as Harry runs both hands over him, and he’s biting his lip as he gasps, “Fuck, Harry, can you…”

“Can I what?” Harry asks as he slips his hands around to the back of Louis’ body, stroking the curved mound of muscle he finds there. “What, Louis, anything. _Anything.”_

Without opening his eyes, Louis reaches around and taking Harry’s hand, tugs it around to the front of his body and presses it down on a spot about five inches below the seam of his tail and his body.

The patch of scales under his hand feels different here and Harry wish he could see through the shimmery water to Louis’ body. There’s nothing here that’s alarming, nothing to be afraid of, he knows, because there’s nothing about Louis that could be anything but beautiful, nothing that can do anything but inspire the most profound desire Harry’s ever experienced. He’s so hard, he’s afraid he’s going to come just from Louis brushing accidentally against him, and he wants to see what he’s feeling under his fingertips.

There’s a slit in the scales, and Louis guides Harry’s fingers into it. It’s hot and wet inside Louis’ body, slick with a slippery substance that coats Harry’s fingers. Inside he can feel the soft tissue and as he strokes gently, his questing fingers brush up against a structure that feels very similar to his own cock, which lies hot and heavy between his legs, pulsing a bit as he thinks about it.

“Fuck, Louis,” he moans, “What do you want me to do?”

Louis is gasping, the muscles in his chest bunching and shifting as he holds himself half out of the water over Harry, who is sprawled out in the chair. “Just, fuck… It’s just like yours, Harry, whatever would feel good to you.”

Harry wiggles his hand gently through the slit and wraps his fingers around the hot, hard length of Louis. Louis’ cock feels amazing under his fingers. It’s shorter than his, and thicker, and Harry can feel the blood pulsing under the surface of the velvety skin, Louis is so hard.

Louis gasp and shudders, his tip of his tail flicking as his body moves, shifting restlessly under Harry’s hand. There’s not a lot of room for Harry to work, so he slides his fingers back and forth over the slick surface, memorizing every bump, the texture under his fingertips, and then as he presses his thumb down and rubs it over the tip, he feels Louis’ whole body convulse and then his fingers are covered with a hot, sticky substance as Louis cries out.

It’s quite possibly the hottest thing Harry Styles has ever seen and he can’t help the way his own cock tightens and throbs in response to the sight of the obvious pleasure coursing through Louis right now.

After several long moments, Louis takes a deep gasping breath and opens his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, “Fuck, Harry, I was going to… for you.”

He sinks back down into the water for a moment and then seems to come to a conclusion. “Harry, do you trust me?”

Harry stares at him. “What? Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here doing this if I didn’t.”

“No,” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hips and shifting him forward so he slides off the chair and into the water, catching himself on the chair with his elbows. “Do you trust me not to let you drown?”

Harry nods slowly, wondering what on earth Louis has in mind. Louis shifts so he’s pressed up against Harry’s body, his trailing fins tangling with Harry’s leg, and the feel of Louis, so different and yet somehow so familiar, has Harry trembling and moaning as his hard cock brushes against Louis’ body.

Louis undulates his body so that it slips between Harry’s legs and curls his tail so he’s starting to press up between Harry’s thighs.

“So, here’s the thing,” he says, “We don’t usually… Do this with others, you know? With humans. But you can.”

He takes a deep breath, and Harry sees the vulnerability in his eyes and somehow, more than anything, it reassures Harry that this isn’t just a fling, this isn’t casual, that Louis is as gone for him as he is for Louis.

He reaches one hand up to trace his knuckles along Louis’ beautiful jawline, strokes his thumb over Louis’ lips, which part under his gentle touch, and then leans in to kiss Louis, softly. Tenderly, even.

“I want to do anything you want to do,” he says quietly, and Louis leans to rest his forehead against Harry’s, and it’s so achingly sweet that Harry feels tears spring to his eyes.

“You can fuck me,” Louis whispers. “It’ll feel so good.”

“You aren’t too sensitive? After…” Harry’s not sure what term the merfolk use.

“After coming?” Louis grins at him. “A bit, but I like it.”

“Can you come again?” Harry asks quietly. He feels like he’s being offered a gift here, something precious and rare.

Louis nods hesitantly. “Maybe? But I want you to, Harry.”

He slides his hands down, and Harry is struck by how powerful a creature Louis is, that he can keep himself pressed up against harry with just the smallest of movements in tail. Louis shifts Harry into position, and then carefully reaches down between them and guides Harry’s cock into the slit in his body, and Harry is overwhelmed with the feeling.

It’s tight around him, slick and hot, and he can feel Louis’ cock brushing up against his as he starts to shift his hips, thrusting gently in to the silky warmth, and it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced. He anchors his hands on Louis’ hips, who shivers under his touch and he remembers how sensitive Louis’ tail seems to be, and lets his fingers dance over the shimmering scales as he moves.

He doesn’t know how long they move together like this, letting the ocean cradle and support them as their bodies work together, trusting Louis to keep him afloat. He feels Louis stiffening up inside himself, as their cocks slip and slide over each other. They’re loud, moans and gasps filling the air as they move, thrusting and rolling together until Louis suddenly stiffens and pulls Harry flush against his body, hard, and Harry feels his cock pulse out his release over Harry, which sends him over the edge. He feels that lightening hot sensation shoot through him, and cries out as he comes.

For a long moment, there is only the sound of the waves and the sea as they both gasp, and Harry lets his head rest on the wooden platform until a wave splashes over him and he chokes on the salty water. That seems to break the spell between them as he coughs and sputters, and slowly, he pulls out of Louis, letting the ocean wash away the remnants of their pleasure. He hauls himself back up onto the platform, and Louis follows after a moment, his tail twitch idly and splashing at the surface of the water.

“Holy shit,” Harry finally breathes and turns to look at Louis. “That was. My _god,_ Lou. That was amazing.”

He struggles, knowing the words are inadequate to convey how special to him this experience has been, but when he sees the look on Louis’ face, he knows he doesn’t have to worry, because Louis can hear every word he’s not saying. Louis reaches up and traces a line down Harry’s cheek, and Harry turns to press a kiss into Louis’ palm.

They look at each other for a long, silent moment and then Harry says, taking a deep breath, “I’d really like to see you again, Louis. I just. I mean, if it’s not obvious, I like you so much.”

He holds his breath until Louis laughs and says, “Harry, I know there’s a lot we have to learn about each other, but, we don’t do… that with just anyone. It’s special, Harry, and I’m so glad you’re here.”

As they gather their things, and Harry reluctantly pulls his swim shorts back on, as he paddles the kayak, watching the way Louis dives and leaps in the water, all he can feel is grateful for this beautiful world, thankful for this amazing merman, and such gratitude that his gift has brought him to this place and this person.

“Louis,” he calls, as Louis pulls ahead of him in the water, the conference center grotto coming into view as they round the curve of the shoreline, “Don’t leave me behind.”

Louis rises up out of the water, tossing his hair out of his eyes, and then playfully rolls his tail up to flick Harry with a faceful of water.

“Never,” he laughs, and turns over to dive deep, the sun highlighting the strong muscles of his back, the deep blues and gold of his fins, “Never, Harry. I’m right here. Next to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr! If you enjoyed this, the rest of my stuff can be found here!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I would love it if you left a kudos or a comment, they all make my day brighter and inspire me to write more!
> 
> If you enjoyed this and want to share, [here is a Tumblr post](https://phd-mama.tumblr.com/post/172883078233/come-with-me-to-the-sea)!


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